


199.99 Incubus Intro Special

by gala_apples



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Early Days, M/M, Sex Work, Succubi & Incubi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-16
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-18 23:46:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18128108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: When you have a truly specialized diet, sometimes there's no choice but to shell out the cash to eat.





	199.99 Incubus Intro Special

**Author's Note:**

> Written for seasonofkink's prompt "sex work".

Gavin’s hungry. He’s so hungry it’s affecting his work. Unfortunately there are only so many options. Sometimes, when depletion gets really bad, incubi can use each other. It only works when only one of the partners needs energy. Incubi can’t feed off each other, like some bullshit endless chocolate bar ‘hack’, just one from the other. It happened occasionally when he was a teenager, unable to convince friends to have a circle jerk or a girl to exchange head. Dan’s always been a great mate. Gavin can’t fall back on that now though. Geoff’s married. It’s already difficult enough managing a two incubus relationship without throwing in a needy third. He won’t ask any of the neighbours. If a human gets fed on by more than one they’ll die of exhaustion. Gavin truly lucked out, finding an incubus couple to live with, someone he doesn’t have to hide from. Sharing the Ramseys feeding ground is too much to ask for. Nor can he ask anyone at work. As far as he knows they’re all totally straight. And fucking fans is not only horribly tacky, there’s also a good chance they’re A: underage B: a blogger C: hopelessly in love, any of which could really fuck him Up. With all those sources nixed, that leaves Gavin hungry in more ways than he can describe.

Hungry, and screwed for Achievement Hunter. When he was a fruit and veg stockboy it didn’t matter as much. He could still pile apples when he was starving and bleary. For that matter, working on Red Vs Blue was fine. If ever Gavin seemed deliriously tired, well, what animator running against deadline didn’t? Now though. Now he’s an on camera personality. His voice matters, and of course that’s where it noticeably hits him first. Well, second, really, but no one ever notices his first sign of depletion. He and Geoff both start getting greasy, lank hair first. Then it goes to Gavin’s voice while it goes to Geoff’s complexion. 

That said, Geoff’s legs break out in a rash much less often than Gavin starts losing his voice. Geoff has less guilt over it. Geoff doesn’t really care that he’s eating other people’s energy. He thinks it’s just another self-care routine, like brushing his teeth or getting a new tattoo. Gavin feels bad. Even if the other person doesn’t notice because they’re too busy orgasming, Gavin knows he’s getting something he didn’t ask for.

Lucky for Gavin, after one depletion too many, Geoff puts him in touch with someone. He’s a YouTube content uploader. Really funny shit where he plays absolute toss games and steadily becomes more furious. Geoff wanted to tap him for AH, but Michael said no. He’s already got two jobs, both well paying. During the day he’s an electrician. At night he’s a human in the know who offers his services to cryptids who need human aid. He’s not currently seeing an incubus, so he’s safe from Gavin, but he’s done them in the past so he’s prepared and Gavin won’t have to hold back.

It’s not as sleazy as it could be, meeting him for the first time. It’s not in a pay by the hour motel, or in an alleyway or something horrid. It’s in a house, in a bedroom. Presumably a guest room, Michael probably doesn’t fuck any of his clients in the room where he puts on his jammies and tucks himself in. But it’s still all the comforts of home, including a headboard to clench and orange juice to drink in down moments.

The first orgasm Gavin devours from Michael is the moment Gavin knows he’s never going back to non-professional sex. This man is an expert in his craft. He’s created so much energy between them, so much vigor, that this is the equivalent of Thanksgiving dinner, not the half a sandwich some lovers have been able to provide.

“Do you fuck every incubus like this?”

“Yes, actually.” Michael replies. “This is the way you need it. Werewolves and naga are very different from you, but I’m the guy who knows how to fuck everyone.”

“Well, uh, thanks?” The words are so inadequate it’s pathetic. There’s no way to explain this post-coital feeling to anyone who’s not an incubus. If they can’t even understand that sex has colours how is he supposed to get into the fourth dimensional shit? But Michael fucks like he wishes he could understand, and Gavin appreciates that.

The second time Gavin has sex with Michael it’s nothing short of divine. In the holy sense of the word, even. Some people commune with their souls so hard they speak in tongues, or weep, or evangelize to every person they meet. Gavin’s end point happens to be slaked hunger, but the game of enriching his soul is the same as anyone. And if he wants to get pedantic he could even fit those other forms. When he licks the line of Michael’s cock, humming syllables for vibration’s sake isn’t that like speaking in tongues? When Michael fucks him so vigorously his eyes water, isn’t that like weeping? Spending a drunken night with the Ramseys laying in the backyard and rambling about what a perfect sex worker Michael is, isn’t that evangelizing? So yeah, maybe Michael’s a practiced expert. Explain to Gavin how that’s different than a priest. It’s only fair that Michael charges for his skills and the feelings they impart, just like churches ask tithes.

“Okay buddy, you’ve drawn out the metaphor enough, I got it,” Griffon says. 

“Michael’s my god,” Gavin says, trying to blink the blur out of the stars above him. They’re not usually so blurry, are they?

Geoff snickers. “I’ll be sure to tell him that.”

“Ohhh, are you going to text him? Tell him, tell ‘im he’s my boi. He’s mine and I want to suck his dick until he’s all the way inside me, his whole body.”

“Griffon can I text that? Tell me if it’s okay that I text that.”

“He’ll kick your ass tomorrow,” she says, falsely. Gavin wouldn’t be mad at Geoff for telling the truth: that Michael the sex worker is the best human to ever exist.

“But that’s tomorrow,” Geoff whines. “It’s funny _now_.”

“Go at your own peril, my son,” she says sagely.

Gavin reaches up to the chaise lounge to pat Geoff’s leg. “Geoffrey, give me a raise. I want to give all my money to Michael.”

“Hahaha nope. Go film more Slow Mo if you want to make more cash.”

“Maybe I will,” Gavin threatens. When he’s a millionaire and Michael is living in their house too, as a rent boy, Geoff’ll be sorry.


End file.
